Somewhere Free
by catsbygatsby3199
Summary: Simon has always longed to be somewhere no one can find him. Jack is always bullying him, and his family life isn't much better than at school. His shyness makes him awkward. Can anything make his life any worse? Rated T for sad, sad, sadness.
1. Out of the Woods

Simon sat in the tallest tree in the woods, hiding from the world. His eyes scanned each page thoroughly, then they stopped and rested as he thought. Warm evening sunlight dripped through the leaves of the trees. Simon watched as small particles of dust floated in and out of the beams of light, meandering through space and time. He smiled. _How wonderful would that be_, he thought. _Not having anywhere to go or anything to do. We could focus on the more important stuff_. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, then went back to watching the dust.

"Simon!" a voice called from the edge of the woods. "Some get your supper, honey!"

Simon smiled to himself again, but with remorse. Why couldn't he just live out here in the woods for once? No, there wouldn't be breakfast and lunch and supper, and no warm beds either, but he would be free, even if for just a day. He jumped down from the tree and walked along the old path he had worn back to his house. His mother greeted him at the door.

"Come in, sweetie. We're having your favorite tonight, vegetable soup!"

"Thank you, mom," Simon said with shyness in his voice. He knew what question was about to come next.

"No need to thank me," she replied. "I'm just doing my job." She ladled some soup into a bowl as Simon sat down at the dinner table. "How was your day at school today?"

There it was. The dreaded question. "Fine," Simon answered, looking into his soup and avoiding eye contact. His mother sat beside him with her soup.

"Well, you know me. I want details! What did you do in your first hour?"

"We read Coral Island. We're reading it as a class now."

"And how do you like it?" his mom asked.

Simon thought. "It seems unrealistic. Wouldn't at least one bad thing happen out there on that island?"

"Well, the author used the excuse you always hear at school. The one about how we're British, so nothing bad can happen to us. How about second hour?"

"We were given a worksheet on finding variables. I finished it in no time flat."

"Third hour?"

"Social studies. We learned about Greece. They were all quite smart."

"Fourth?"

"More protons and neutrons."

"Lunch?"

Simon blinked. "What about it?"

His mother laughed. "Who did you sit by? What did you talk about?"

"I ate. I didn't sit by anyone. I just ate."

His mother's smile faded. "Oh," she said softly. "Well, go on then."

"The rest of the day I was in a locker, so there isn't much to talk about. I apologized to the kid whose locker it was, though. He was scared to death."

"What? How did you get there?"

"Merridew."

His mother rolled her eyes. "That snobby boy? He's a jerk, just don't let him push you around.

"He's twice my height."

"Yes, Simon, but you're both the same age. You have just as much authority as him."

"But I don't," Simon argued quietly. "How much power can I have compared to him? He's Merridew!"

"Someday, you're going to be a great person, Simon. Jack is just going to end up being a bully."

"A bully? Like Dad?" Simon added.

His mother took a deep breath in and released it. "No. Well, yes. But… I don't know. How about you go work on homework."

"Okay."

She stood up and left the table with her soup.


	2. An Average School Day

"Now, can any of you define a homophone for me?"

Merridew's hand shot up, along with all of the other choir boys' hands. All except for Simon. He was listening very intently, of course. He always did. It just always seemed he would end up doodling in his notebook in order to pay attention. Before they had been of the girl who lived across the street. Then it was some trees he saw on his excursion through the woods. This time the picture was of three blue butterflies. They were very exotic looking, with long, large wings and vibrant color. The blue was that of a sapphire, and there were jet black streaks running along the veins of the wings.

"How about you, Simon?" the English teacher asked. Simon looked up in shock. _Oh no,_ he thought. _ Mr. Garrett, you don't know what you're doing. _

"Simon?"

_Oh boy…_

"A homophone is a word that sounds like another word, but looks different. Like pear and pair and pare." He said quietly, looking nervously around the classroom. He was going to get it from Jack now. That was _his_ question.

"Thank you, Simon," the teacher said. "Yes a homophone is a word that sounds identical to another while having a different spelling. Simon's example was great…"

Simon looked a Jack, who was now looking straight at him. The breath caught in Simon's throat and his eyes widened. Jack's blue eyes flashed with anger and fear, like that of a policeman before executing a criminal. His lips curled into a sinister smile. Simon looked away and at the teacher, who was now on a different topic entirely.

"What was that?" Simon heard behind him in the hallway. He jumped and turned around.

"Um, what?"

Merridew laughed maniacally. "In class, you little elf. You answered my question! What was that all about?"

"The teacher called on me," Simon said quietly. "I didn't really have a choice."

Merridew grabbed his sleeve and pulled him up to his face. "You could have said you didn't want to answer, right?"

"Um, yeah," Simon whimpered.

"Then why didn't you?" Merridew nearly shouted.

"I, um, I just... I don't know," he begged.

"Well, from the looks of things, you know a whole lot. You read my mind in there, Simon. Did I give you permission to do that?"

"No…"

"Then why?" Merridew nearly shouted.

"Merridew," Simon said softly, "you're attracting a lot of attention. People are watching us."

"Oh, so you don't like all of this attention, midget? I'll show you attention. Just wait for choir class."

Merridew released Simon's sleeve and threw the small arm to the side. He wrung his hands together as though he had just touched an insect. With one swift movement, he turned on his heel and strode away.


	3. The Escape

Simon had a rock in the pit of his stomach as he walked into the choir class, the coattails of his robe trailing behind him on the floor. The cap that would normally sit on his head was being wrung in between his hands nervously. The silver badge, with the initials for Jonathan Lawrence Military School stamped into the metal, reflected light from the lamps above him.

Merridew walked into the room, his arrogant nose stuck in the air. Maurice was grinning behind him making a weird face at Roger, who had his eyes turned to the floor in an angry squint. Simon's eyes widened and he shrunk into his robe, hiding his face under his hair.

"Not yet," he heard Merridew say. "We're going to try something different from usual."

Roger flung his head back and let out a groan. "But I love beating the crap out of that kid…"

"I know you do, Roger," Merridew whispered. "I just have a different plan. Don't worry, you don't even have to do a thing."

A different plan? Simon watched Merridew glance at him, daggers shooting from his eyes. What could be worse than being shoved in lockers all of the time?

Mr. Transpose came into the room, his short, round body dressed in a very professional tuxedo. He came up to the piano and played a chord, signaling for silence. The chatter around the room died down slowly as the choir instructor began to talk.

"Today we are going to choose a soloist for the piece "When I am Silent." We will be singing this piece at our concert on May 29th, which is two weeks from today. For those of us who would like to audition, please raise your hands."

As usual, only Merridew's hand flew into the air.

"Okay. Jack – "

"Oh, it's Merridew, Mr. Transpose," he interjected.

Mr. Transpose sighed. "Okay, Merridew, would you come down and sing for us please?"

Merridew glanced over his shoulder at Roger, who was nonchalantly leaning against the back of the risers playing with his fingernails. He shook his head.

"Nope. I'm going to let someone else give it a try," he said with an innocent grin plastered to his face.

"That's a first!" Maurice shouted, causing the class to erupt into laughter.

"Quiet!" Mr. Transpose shouted over the noise. The class silenced themselves. He looked back to Jack with a quizzical look. "Who?"

"Simon."

Simon looked up in horror. Jack shot him a bitter smile that caused him to swallow fiercely. "That's right Simon. I heard you singing the other day. You were just hopping along down the hall, and it was absolutely amazing. Why don't you try?"

Jack heard him singing? He never sang in public. The boy had to be lying. However, feeling all of the stares burning into the back of his head, Simon nodded and stood up. He walked over to the piano, where Mr. Transpose sat. He began to play, and after eight measures of the melancholy rhythm, Simon sang.

_**"Who will sing my song when I am silent?**_

_** Who will count the colors of the dawn?**_

_** Who will follow the lark's flight?**_

_** Who will hear its song?**_

_** When I am silent, who will sing for me?"**_

__Simon stopped, looking at the ground to hide his red face. He continued, letting the music carry him along.

_**"Who will scent the fragrance of a flower?**_

_** Who will laugh at snowflakes on the tounge?**_

_** Who will dance barefoot in the grass,**_

_** Spinning and twirling and spinning and twirling **_

_** To welcome the warmth of May?**_

The choir stood awestruck. How could this voice come out of a child this quiet?

_** Who will dance when I dance no more? **_

_** When I sing no more? When I am silent,**_

_** Who will cry for –"**_

An alarm buzzed in the background. Simon broke off his solo, recognizing a warning bell for the atomic attack from China. His breath caught in his throat as the teacher shuffled them out of the room and threw them onto a bus more quickly than any of the boys thought possible. Attendants brought their luggage on and threw it at the boys, not caring if anything fell or hit a boy in the head. Simon blocked out the many rules and regulations about plane safety and how to carry themselves in a calm manner as the bus sped to the airport. The boys rushed inside, sprinting away to the boarding station. People flooded the halls, cramming onto planes and running from a danger that did not yet exist.

But it would soon if they didn't escape.

Out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw Merridew, struggling with his luggage. The suitcase was full to the brim with clothing and shoes, all black and shining. Without thinking, Simon ran over and grabbed the suitcase from Merridew. "Run!" he said loudly at the panicking redhead. He stood, frozen by the screams and frantic chaos. "Get on the plane!" Simon said again, his voice raising to a shout. "You're going to die if you don't run, Merridew! Get on the plane!"

He stood motionless. Simon licked his lips in frustration.

"Jack!" he screamed.

Merridew snapped out of his paralysis and sprinted for the group of boys ahead of him. Simon ran after him, his heart pounding in his chest. Alarms sounded around him, making his ears ring. His felt time slow around him and he could see the faces of all of the people around him, struggling to get on a plane. There were shouts of mothers, crying children, men grabbing their wives into their arms for the last time.

Stepping onto the plane, the chaos continued. A blonde boy ran into him, huffing as he ran to find his seat. The school sweater he wore was drenched with sweat, and he pulled it off over his head to reveal a grey t-shirt that was just as wet. Another boy was holding his glasses and rubbing them constantly with his shirt. He fidgeted with the stockings that were pulled up to his plump knees. Young boys sat everywhere, crying and looking out the windows with fearful eyes.

Simon sat in a seat next to Robert, who was whispering a Jewish prayer to God as he bowed his head. Tears filled the boy's brown eyes, causing Simon to feel a hole in his stomach. No one every cried. Not in the choir, anyway. The plane started down the runway as Simon thought back to his home. This mother would have had no way of knowing of the attack. They lived to far outside of town to hear the alarm. His father would be sitting in his office, drinking his rum as he shouted at his wife, unaware that this would be their last moment together. Maybe, Simon thought, they would be happy in their last moments. Maybe his dad would be sober. Or maybe this was his mother's escape. Either way, death was inevitable, and Simon felt the heat of the kitchen, the warmth of his mother, and the silence of the woods on his skin.

The smell of warm soup still lingered his nostrils as the plane soared into the sky.


	4. Epilouge Jack's Revelation

_Lightning flashed as the dance continued. "Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!" He winced with the flash of each spear hurtling towards him. "Somewhere free," he thought. "I'm going somewhere free now." He felt the darkness close in…_

…

"We would like to welcome you to the spring concert," Mr. Transpose said with a grin. "Well, it's more like winter now."

The audience laughed and waited.

"Our choir went through quite the traumatic event, but they're back and ready to go. Right, boys?"

The children behind him nodded, but their faces were crestfallen. Mr. Transpose gave a weak smile. "Well, more or less. We would like to begin with a piece by…"

Jack looked around the audience as he sang, unaware of his voice or the attention he received. Everyone here was so different, so much more grown up from the last time he had seen them at school. His eyes caught Roger's and he flinched, his mind wandering back to…

No, he couldn't think about that. Not right now. Mr. Transpose took a bow and the audience clapped, causing uproar. "Our next piece is one of our personal favorites, with a solo by…" his voice quieted as he looked at the program. "… by Jack Merridew."

Jack came down in front of the risers as the audience clapped wildly. He gave a sideways smile as the song began. Eight measures. Five, six, seven…

"Who will – "

Jack's voice cracked. He tried again.

"Who will sing – "

He choked on the words. The music stopped. Mr. Transpose came up to him, his face red with embarrassment.

"Merridew, you don't have to do this. We can sing this without the solo."

Jack looked to the empty space on the risers. He almost saw him sitting there, his black hair hanging in his wide hazel eyes. He looked away, staring at the ground.

"It's not mine to take," he said. He held up a tape he had been keeping in his pocket. "I recorded him. I recorded him so I could show it to people, so they would make fun of him."

Staring at the ground he spoke again, gasping. "It's my fault. It's not my song. It's his."

Mr. Transpose looked at Jack with pity. "It's not your fault, Jack-"

"It was me!" he shouted. "I killed him!" Murmurs arose in the audience.

"Merridew, you didn't," Mr. Transpose. "They said he wasn't there. He was swept away by the sea."

Jack looked up at Mr. Transpose, his shocking blue eyes red and wet with tears. "You weren't there," he whispered.

Mr. Transpose took the recording from Jack and placed it into the CD player. After a few tries, they finally got the tape to work.

"W_**ho will sing my song when I am silent?"**_


End file.
